


a wine-dark death

by screechfox



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Creeper Elias Bouchard, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Moral Bankruptcy, Telepathy, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 03:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19715032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: “The things I do for you, Jon,” Elias murmurs, smoothing down the lines of his suit.Elias wants to turn Jon into a vampire. Jon doesn't get any say in the matter.





	a wine-dark death

**Author's Note:**

> dear god, i have written some trashy vampire fic before but this is the trashiest ever. first fic i've ever written that i feel deserves an 'M' rating (though i am bad at ratings so god knows). it also beats _drunk on rose water_ 's three year crown of 'most messed up thing i have ever written'
> 
> listen, no one else had written the fic where elias actually turned jon into a vampire, so i had to take that on myself
> 
> thanks to [twodrunkencelestials](https://twodrunkencelestials.tumblr.com/) for chatting about this au with me. there may be more of this au to come, we'll see. TMA gives me a million fic ideas at all times and i'm trying to keep up

“You’ve had encounters with vampires before, haven’t you?”

Jon trembles, pressed against the office wall as though he’ll somehow be able to escape through the cold stone bricks. He looks for all the world like a wounded animal — it is, quite frankly, delicious. Elias smiles with all his teeth, letting the sharp points of his fangs catch the dim light.

“You were bitten once, when you were a child,” Elias continues, just to watch Jon’s movements still. “It nearly turned you, but you pushed through. You were sick for weeks after that bite, weren’t you? It must have been hard for you to keep food down, given that you craved something else entirely.”

“How do you know that?” Despite Jon’s fear, the demanding tone of his voice doesn’t waver.

_Jon is going to make a wonderfully complicated vampire,_ Elias thinks, a pleased curve to his lips. He takes a relaxed step forward, rejoicing in the way that the approach makes Jon’s pulse beat rabbit-quick. This close, Jon smells utterly human — a mingling of sweat and blood that only whets Elias’ appetite. No tears yet, but they’ll come in time.

“It’s left its marks on you, hasn’t it? You don’t dare show anyone the scar, but it’s always there, a reminder of what could have been.” Elias pauses in contemplation, perusing Jon’s memories with systematic precision. “The greying hair might be a part of it, as well — vampire bites can do odd things to human physiology, especially at such a malleable age.”

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” This time, Jon’s voice trembles.

“More or less, yes.” Elias takes another step forward, cutting off all hopes of escape.

“More or—” Elias doesn’t have to be a mind-reader to see the realisation cross Jon’s thoughts; it’s written plain as day in the open horror on his face. “No. No, you can’t—”

A final step forward, and Elias has Jon’s shoulders in a firm grip. The bones are fragile — Elias could snap them without a thought — but he keeps his grip gentle as he pins Jon against the wall. No need to damage him more than necessary.

“Please don’t,” Jon whispers, beautiful in his desperation. He pulls at Elias’ arms in a rather charming exercise in futility.

Elias runs one hand across to Jon’s neck, caressing the spot where the old scar sits, hidden below a high collar and stiff fabric. Jon’s breath hitches at the contact; he freezes in some primal fear. Elias unfastens Jon’s shirt, taking his time with every button. When the long lines of Jon’s neck are exposed, Elias leans closer. Jon’s shaky, half-sobbing breaths warm Elias’ skin in a delightful parody of life.

“Impress me, Jon,” he murmurs, and then he bites down.

Jon jerks against him, making a low sound of pain. He struggles frantically, but he has little in the way of physical strength. It is no effort to ignore his instinctive — and misguided — fight for survival.

Blood is blood, Elias has learnt, and the flavour rarely varies. Intoxication can turn it syrup-sweet and hazy, and certain disorders can sour the taste beyond repair, but for the most part, one victim tastes much the same as another. Still, Elias fancies that Jon’s beating lifeblood tastes better than any other he’s consumed in his long life; the familiar pleasure of drinking his fill mingles with the satisfaction of a well-won game.

Oh, Elias shouldn’t get ahead of himself. This is a victory, yes, but it certainly isn’t any kind of completion. He may have the upper hand right now, but he can’t predict what Jon’s next move will be. Jon is clever, and stubborn, and he’s going to hold a grudge that will be impressive even by vampiric standards.

“Please,” Jon says again, his voice fluttering and fading in his throat on the wings of a crimson, iron-tang butterfly. If Elias were the merciful sort, he’d rip Jon’s throat open and get everything over and done with.

Instead, Elias bites deeper, and Jon rewards him with another sound of pain — this one high and animal, desperate and dying. His struggles are waning as he grows weaker and weaker; every sluggish pump of blood saps his strength and brings him closer to his end. Though it’s tempting to savour Jon to the point of true death, that would rather defeat Elias’ original purpose. When Elias decides that he’s drank enough, he steps backward to admire his work.

Jon’s dark skin has acquired a fetching grey tinge. His eyes are half-lidded, lashes fluttering as he tries to focus his gaze. His legs shake; if Elias weren’t holding him in place, he’d collapse in an instant. With a gentle touch, Elias uses one hand to tilt Jon’s head up until their eyes meet.

He slips into Jon’s mind, taking a moment to look at himself through the darkening blur of Jon’s vision. If he’s honest, Elias has let himself get into quite a state: his suit is rumpled into disarray, and there are smears of crimson stark against his bloodless lips.

(He’ll have a hard time explaining this mess to Rosie when he returns to his office, but she’s nothing if not a consummate professional. He doubts she’ll even ask.)

“The things I do for you, Jon,” Elias murmurs, smoothing down the lines of his suit.

With a sigh, he pushes one sleeve up to expose the pale skin beneath. It takes little effort to dig his nails into the flesh, until droplets of blood begin to well up in deep red crescents. All at once, Jon’s eyes focus unerringly on the wounds. Elias smiles.

“Drink, Jon.” Elias lifts his bloodied arm towards Jon’s mouth.

Delirious, confused, near-unconscious with the blood loss, Jon can’t think of any other option than to do what he’s told. He leans his head forward to close the gap, and begins to drink with an urgency that speaks to his growing thirst.

Elias watches for several long minutes, admiring the sight of Jon’s head bent down to catch every drop of wine-red gore. His exposed throat moves in a gentle rhythm, drawing the eye to the blood that still oozes from the bite that marks his skin. It is so very, very tempting, but Elias hasn’t lived this long without a measure of self-control.

He waits until his own vision begins to dance with bright spots of dizziness. Then he prises Jon’s head away from his arm with a gentle touch, ignoring Jon’s quiet sound of unhappiness at the loss.

Elias could leave him like this. The bite would heal, and the change would burn through him, carving at Jon’s being like a river through rock. Gradual, yes, but so terribly inevitable. It would be a delight to watch him struggle with the cravings — manageable one day, but slipping out of control the next. It would only be a matter of time before he attacked someone, and he would struggle against that certainty so delectably. Elias takes a moment to consider; there is something to be said for delayed gratification, after all.

In the end, though, his impatience wins out. It would be too easy if he gave Jon that kind of foreknowledge. Better to drop him in the deep end, and be done with it. Besides, waiting to see what he’ll do with his rebirth is another kind of gratification entirely — one Elias will relish with all of his cold, unbeating heart.

Elias moves both of his hands to Jon’s throat, holding on with a firm grip. He strokes one bloodied thumb across Jon’s chin, and then he snaps his neck. Jon goes limp and glassy-eyed within a few seconds, and Elias lets his corpse drop to the floor with a thud of dead muscle and bone.

Well then. That should expedite matters nicely.

Given the acceleration of his change, Jon is going to be particularly ravenous when he wakes up. Perhaps he’ll kill one of those assistants he’s so attached to. It would be bothersome to have to hire another, but Elias is willing to make sacrifices for the cause.

Elias pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes it gingerly across his mouth as he surveys the carnage. In ordinary circumstances, he’d call on one of London’s more _discrete_ cleaning services, but he’d rather not lose their goodwill due to an attack from a newborn vampire. No, this untidiness will have to remain as it is for the moment.

He could stay to guide Jon, he supposes, but Elias has no interest in interfering with Jon’s actions this early. Jon can act as he will, and one day, he’ll come and find Elias on his own initiative. Tomorrow, or in a century, it makes no difference.

In the meantime, Elias is just going to enjoy the show.

**Author's Note:**

> god, just. just don't look at me, okay?
> 
> (this fic also officially wins the prize of 'research most likely to put me on a watchlist', with the google search "how long does it take for someone to die after neck snapped")
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [screechfoxes](https://screechfoxes.tumblr.com) on tumblr! i hope you enjoyed the trashy trashy vampires


End file.
